Heart's Memory
by Barbie Shoes
Summary: "Regina," he replied simply. The name struck something inside of Emma. It was like a jolt of excitement, or maybe anticipation. Something somehow familiar, in a way that nothing else had been in almost a year. Then, like a crack of lightening that illuminates the blackened sky, the feeling flickered and disappeared. "Who the hell is Regina?" — Swan Queen. Set post 3x11, my own 3B
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: It's finally here! My first multichapter Swan Queen story! For anyone who STILL doesn't know, this story is my own 3B, and it draws on many of the earlier (and maybe some later) spoilers about the second half of the season, all with my own Swan Queen twist. This chapter is quite short, the rest are a bit longer. Updates will be every Monday. I really hope you guys like it! Please take a moment to let me know your thoughts. Even a full sentence or two means a lot to us writers :)_

* * *

"Swan!"

It took a moment to place the foreign voice that chanted her name with unfounded familiarity. Emma's jaw clenched when she recognized it, her fist diving urgently into her purse. The creep who'd shown up at her door that morning was following her now. Just what she needed, Emma thought. Some lunatic chasing her down the street when she's already late for work.

"I have pepper spray!" she announced. Emma whirled around, holding the canister up to the man's eye level with intent. He narrowed the distance between them, hands held up in surrender. Emma noted that while one hand was bare, the other was encased in black and appeared oddly rigid.

"I apologize for the kiss, milady," he offered demurely. "It was bad form. I promise it won't happen again. I shan't lay a finger on you without your explicit consent."

"You're damn right you won't!" Emma shouted, taking little comfort in his sentiment post factum. "Just who the _hell_ are you? And _why_ are are you stalking me?"

"The name's Killian Jones. You generally seemed to prefer my more colorful moniker, 'Hook'. However," he held up the stiff, gloved hand as if that should mean something to Emma, but didn't elaborate.

"And you're harassing me because?"

"I told you," he replied calmly, as though talking her off a ledge, "your family needs you."

"And I already told _you_," Emma countered, doing her best to appear disimpassioned by his persistence, "my son is the only family I've ever had. You've got the wrong girl."

"Emma Swan," Killian recited, as if reading her name off a file folder. "Found on the roadside in Maine as an infant. Grew up an orphan, to become a thief. Claims to have been in love only once, by the same man who fathered her son and sent her to prison for his own crimes."

Instantly unnerved by his intimate knowledge of her life, Emma pressed the pepper spray closer to his face. She cherished her privacy, and more importantly her son's. Emma didn't like the idea of anyone rifling through her semi sordid past, let alone a perfect stranger with a shady agenda.

"You could have learned all that from the news papers," she hissed angrily. "Public records."

"I thought the love bit was quite the personal touch," Killian shrugged.

Emma narrowed her eyes, refusing to take the bait. "Lucky guess."

"Very well," Killian sighed. "I'll make you a deal. I'll assert something no one else could possibly know about you. If I'm wrong, I'll leave you in peace – for good. However, if I'm correct, you must return home with me."

Emma chortled humorlessly. This guy couldn't be serious.

"That's a pretty steep bargain from a total stranger," she bit sarcastically.

"I promise to make my claim worthy of the wager."

Emma was curious despite herself. Her arm relaxed a little, though remained poised. She had a knack for detecting lies. Whether it was the truth or not, this man clearly believed Emma was a vital element in a mission of great importance. Far from sold on the notion, she figured she might get a better idea of what she was dealing with if she humored him a little.

"Where is 'home' exactly?" she inquired noncommittally, and she could swear his face lit up with her apparent interest.

"Storybrooke, Maine," he declared, almost proudly.

"_Storybrooke?_ Really?" Emma tried not to roll her eyes at the name. It sounded so very quaint. Quaint was definitely not her cup of tea, and Emma imagined she wouldn't be much a town like 'Storybrooke's brand of choice either.

"Do we have a bargain?" Killian pressed eagerly.

Emma frowned, giving a sharp nod. "Lets hear it," she ordered, having no intention of going anywhere with this mad man, no matter what he said.

"You've had a happy life since the birth of your son."

"Try three months later when I was released from prison and got him back from social services," Emma scoffed. "Not impressed so far."

"Let me finish," Killian continued with certitude. "With him, you have the life you always wanted. Yet, for the past year alone, you've felt that something isn't right. Like there's a piece missing, or you've forgotten something of great importance. You know that if you could just ignore this feeling, your future with the boy would be a happy one. However," he paused, pinning her with a frighteningly penetrating stare, "you can never seem to shake the pervasive thought that everything you know has been a lie."

The man's conjecture had visibly shaken Emma. He was right, on every count. The words he had spoken echoed in perfect succession with the thoughts that haunted her every single day and night. Thoughts that she had never shared with anyone, not even her son.

"How could you possibly know that?" Emma snapped.

"Regina," he replied simply.

The name struck something inside of Emma. It was like a jolt of excitement, or maybe anticipation. Something somehow familiar, in a way that nothing else had been in almost a year. Then, like a crack of lightening that illuminates the blackened sky, the feeling flickered and disappeared.

"Who the hell is Regina?" she asked sharply, still rattled but more curious than before. The moment had been brief, but Emma wanted that feeling back. She needed it.

"Keep your end of the deal," Killian replied, as if knowing she'd never really intended to, "and I swear to you, you shall receive your answers. Not only to that question, but to all the others that you've dared not even speak."

Slowly, Emma lowered the pepper spray. This was crazy, she told herself. To even consider listening to this man, it was insane. She needed answers though, for her and her son, and there wasn't exactly a line of people offering them. Just this one man. It was ludicrous, but Emma was desperate.

She felt guilty being dissatisfied by her charmed life. She had a model son, a beautiful home, a steady job. She had eleven years of happy memories, until this emptiness had appeared out of nowhere one year ago. It burned in her chest, spreading and leaving a yawning chasm in its wake. She couldn't keep living pretending nothing was wrong.

Emma grit her teeth, hoping she wasn't making the worst mistake of her life as she ground out her answer. "When do we leave?"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I know the first chapter was a lot of setup, but I am thrilled with all the follows and favs already! And the reviews, particularly those of you that took the time to leave such well thought out replies... That always just makes my day, you have no idea! _

_The story really begins in this chapter, so I hope people will be even more intrigued from here on out! Thank you for reading!  
_

* * *

Emma stood stoically on a dock, suitcase in one hand, the other gripping Henry's shoulder like a vice. She knew proper parenting would likely dictate that she not bring the boy along on such an ill-advised trip. It was hard being a single mother, though. There really wasn't another option on such short notice.

She eyed the one-handed creep warily. So much as a glance in Henry's direction, and Emma would take his other hand without hesitation. She had made quite certain that the man was well aware of this fact.

While she knew that agreeing to go along with this Killian Jones character was absolutely nuts, it wasn't until he presented his mode of transportation that she truly began to question her sanity.

"How exactly are we getting there?" Emma asked, seeing nothing before her but water.

"We fly," Killian grinned.

Emma gestured towards the emptiness. "In what?"

"My ship, of course!" he proclaimed triumphantly.

As he spoke, the leather clad man took a step up, seemingly into the air. Henry made an awestruck noise, but Emma found herself feeling enraged over what she perceived to be a party trick.

"You think this is a joke?" she barked, recalling something similar performed by a street magician on television. "Is there a hidden camera crew lurking around here? Because I swear to god, if I called into work and pulled my son out of school for some cheap, side show gimmick–"

Killian rolled his eyes, and when he grabbed Emma by the arm, she very nearly made good on her promise to take off his other hand. The urge was quickly forgotten when, with a single sharp tug, she found herself standing next to him. Standing on something very solid, very large, and very definitely not floating in air.

"Mom?" Henry called in amazement, clearly still unable to see the massive vessel she now stood upon. Killian boarded the ship, apparently now confident they would follow.

"Henry," Emma called, panicking at the rampant absurdity all around them and wanting to keep the boy close. "Come here, right now."

He obeyed immediately, grasping his mother's outstretched hand and hoisting himself up.

"Cool!" Henry shouted when at last he saw the ship for himself.

Emma sighed with a shake of her head. Of course he would think that. They were flying from New York to Maine on an invisible boat, supposedly meeting their long lost family, and the kid just thought it was 'cool'.

Henry had always had a certain eagerness to believe in just about anything, and against all odds. Emma had told him the truth about Santa Claus when he was turning twelve, fearing he was getting too old. She didn't want her kid getting teased by his classmates for being naive. He'd accepted her explanation, but Emma had a sneaking suspicion he'd continued to believe nevertheless.

On the one hand, it made her glad that her child had such innocence. It was a luxury she'd never been afforded, and Emma wanted better than that for her son. Still, she'd always worried that his enthusiastic acceptance of ideas on blind faith might make him an easy mark. Though, given their current situation, it suddenly seemed that perhaps he wasn't so very deluded after all.

For her part, Emma felt a bit nauseated by the impossibility of it all. She had to be delirious. She was hallucinating, or dreaming, or drugged. Those were the only explanations that made any logical sense. Yet, she knew in her heart they weren't the truth. She was going to need to borrow a little of Henry's blind faith if she was going to get through this.

"You're looking a bit green about the gills there, Swan," Killian observed with a frown.

"It's just," Emma raised her brows incredulously, "Kind of a lot to take in."

"Aye," he agreed, producing a flask from within his coat. "Perhaps a drink?"

Considering how awful she'd felt these past months, Emma had shied away from drinking. It would be too easy to get lost in a bottle, to not feel that ache anymore. And that wasn't an option, not with Henry to think about. This, however, was a very different situation. Emma decided a swallow to calm her nerves wouldn't hurt. She took a big gulp, cringing just a little at the unexpected taste of rum.

"Very good," Killian chuckled as Emma passed back the flask, slipping it into his coat. "Now, come," he beckoned, gripping the wheel of the ship with his good hand, "and I'll give you all the sordid details."

By the time the ship docked in Storybrooke, Emma's buzz had worn off but her head was still spinning. She was sure she'd already forgotten half of what she'd been told, though the bits she remembered were confounding enough.

Henry dawdled behind as Emma and Killian disembarked. Though still mystified, Emma had relaxed enough not to panic when the kid left her sight. Henry was almost a teenager now, after all. He didn't need his mom hovering over him all the time.

The pier was mostly vacant, save for a few stragglers. There was one woman though, staring out over the water, who immediately stole Emma's attention. Even at a distance, there was something captivating in the simple subtlety of her movements. Emma didn't realize she was walking towards the woman, until suddenly her features came into focus. Dark coat, dark hair, dark eyes. She was a black hole, trapping Emma in her gravitational pull, yet bright like a supernova.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, if a bit forlorn. Emma felt that jolt in her chest again, blushing when she felt another slightly lower. Remembering Killian's claim that Emma's parents would appear similar to herself in age, she pushed that feeling out of her mind. If what he said was true, she certainly didn't want to start out accidentally lusting after her own mother. She really hoped this particular woman wasn't her.

Lost in thought, Emma didn't even have time to avert her gaze. The dark woman turned and caught her eye, suddenly looking as though she'd seen a ghost.

"Emma?" she croaked. The woman slowly reached out a hand as if to touch soft blonde tresses, as if needing proof that she could believe what she saw. She bashfully let her hand fall away before it could make contact.

"I'm sorry," Emma shook her head regretfully, "Do I know you?"

The woman looked to Killian as he came up beside them, a hopeful question in her eyes. Emma followed her glance, seeing the man respond with a reluctant shake of his head.

"No," the woman slumped. "I don't suppose you would."

"Emma," Killian interjected, "May I introduce you to Storybrooke's illustrious mayor, Ms Regina Mills."

"Regina," Emma repeated under her breath. So, this was her. The woman Killian claimed to be the other mother of her son. The woman he couldn't quite describe Emma's relationship to, other than to say it was 'quite complex'. The woman who's name had, for all intents and purposes, been the thing that convinced Emma to come here at all. This was her.

"Hello," Regina nodded politely, a tight smile on her lips. She seemed awfully disappointed, and for some reason that made Emma feel guilty.

"Mom, I'm hungry," Henry announced as he caught up with the group.

"Hey, kid. Come here a sec," Emma called, slipping an arm around his shoulders. "This is Regina Mills, she's the mayor here. That's kind of cool, right?" Henry shrugged. Looking to Regina, Emma continued, "Madame Mayor, this is my son–"

"Henry," Regina finished for her. Right, Emma thought. He was supposed to be her son, too. It was hard for Emma to accept the idea, believing herself to have raised him alone all these years. He was a great kid, and she didn't want to share the credit for that with some stranger, even one so enigmatically alluring as Regina.

Still, the way the woman's eyes shimmered broke Emma's heart. There was no denying the expression on Regina's face. It was one Emma had seen many times on the faces women, staring at children who brought them dandelion bouquets or scraped their knees on the sidewalk. A look she had always longed to see directed her way. That, Emma knew, was the look of a mother's love.

Regina pulled herself together, extending a friendly hand to the boy. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, smiling warmly.

Emma sighed in relief. She wasn't ready to even begin trying to explain all this to her son, not until she could grasp it herself without getting dizzy. Thankfully, Regina seemed willing to move at their pace.

Henry stood mute a moment too long, and Regina's face fell. Emma quickly lifted his arm for him, encouraging him to shake the woman's hand. She could only imagine that Regina wanted to wrap him in her arms and never let go; the least Emma could do was get her a handshake. She received a knowing, but grateful smile in return.

"If you need a place to stay," Regina proposed with ardor, "It would be my pleasure to put you up in my home. There's plenty of room, and I've been told I'm an excellent cook."

The offer was tempting. It was incredibly generous, and the woman's enthusiasm was infectious. What's more, despite knowing almost nothing about this woman, Emma found she desperately wanted to trust her and to stay close.

As usual, however, there were more important things than herself to consider. She'd already entrusted one total stranger with her and her son's safety today; that was more than enough.

"I, um," Emma stuttered, hating to turn Regina down. "That's really nice of you, but Killian actually mentioned a Bed and Breakfast on the way here. I think we'll go with that, for now."

"Of course," Regina nodded, obviously disappointed but also empathetic. "I do believe I heard someone say they were hungry," she continued more exuberantly, shooting Henry a knowing grin. "If you won't take me up on my offer, I insist you allow me to treat you to dinner."

Emma wasn't usually very good at accepting people's generosity, especially when it came to food or money. It made her uncomfortable. However, in this case, she got the distinct impression that the offer was merely a rouse to keep them close. Refusing would only hurt Regina's feelings again.

"We would love that," Emma smiled shyly. "Wouldn't we, Henry?"

"Sure," he replied nonchalantly, though grinning excitedly. A knowing look passed between the two women. They both knew he'd been officially won over with the promise of food.

"Wonderful," Regina clasped her hands together, before turning back towards Killian. "Thank you, Captian," she dismissed the man, gently ushering her guests away. "I'll take it from here."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So I guess I was being kind of a big baby on tumblr, because this story has over 200 follows already and that's pretty amazing! I feel the need to state that this story is not ever going to be action packed, maybe just cuz after seeing the show being so action heavy in contrast made me think of it. But yeah, it's really more low key and just about their relationship and how it grows. Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you're all still enjoying it!_

* * *

"So, if Storybrooke was blown off the map after we left," Emma mused around a bite of french fry, "What are you all doing here now?"

"That is a rather long story," Regina sighed, leaning back heavily in the booth. "One better suited for for another time."

"Fair enough," Emma nodded, too worn out by the day's events to push it. She eyed her son playing pinball across the diner. The antique machine was a new addition, or so the jubilant old woman called 'Granny' had told them. Granny's enthusiam had waned upon realizing they didn't know who she was, though her hospitality remained high, providing Henry with a pile of quarters to use after dinner. Once his plate was cleared, Emma excused him from the table so she could speak to Regina more candidly.

"Smaller scale question, then," Emma continued. "What am I doing here now?"

"That is hardly a question of smaller scale, my dear," Regina replied. She dabbed a napkin around her red lips, delicately hiding a coy smile, though not the glint in her eyes. "You underestimate yourself."

Emma felt a bit discomposed by the way this woman looked at her. It was not entirely dissimilar to the pirate's leer, though Regina's stare was far less marauding. There was a certain dire wistfulness in her eyes that unsettled Emma deep in her gut, but in a good way. Like being roused from a restless slumber.

Looking down at her food, Emma swirled a fry through her ketchup to avoid the way Regina's eyes stirred her soul. The amnesic woman desperately wished to know what sort of complexities littered their mutual past. Glancing up at her bewitching acquaintance, a yearning knot formed in Emma's stomach, and she decided it was better she focus on the present.

"Are you saying that story is for another time, too?" Emma asked when she was sure she could speak without blushing.

"Not at all," Regina replied. "While equally important, that answer is far more simply explained ."

"Shoot," Emma encouraged, gesticulating with the fry. She cringed when a drip of ketchup splattered onto the table, imagining how terribly uncivilized she must seem to a regal woman like Regina. The mess appeared to have gone unnoticed, and Emma sighed in relief, discreetly wiping away the evidence.

"There is a witch terrorizing Storybrooke," Regina began, sounding rather formal for a moment before the edges softened again. "And no," she smirked, "this time it isn't me."

Emma snorted. "You terrorized the town?" she asked skeptically. Emma supposed that probably factored into their complex history, but for the life of her, she just couldn't see it. Regina seemed sweet. The tiny woman who looked so sad at the pier, who gazed at Henry with such love and bought them dinner – that woman didn't really fit the terrorist profile.

"Once upon a time," Regina nodded. Emma's eyes narrowed furtively when she caught the pun. Sure, the joke was cheesy, but she still found herself sporting an impish smile. Seemed the mayor had an ironic sense of humor. Emma hadn't expected that. Then again, she realized, what she actually knew about this woman was scarce, and the mysteries abundant.

"I find that hard to believe," Emma replied, not doubting the truth of it but feeling like that was the right thing to say. Now was _really_ not the time to be cultivating some girlish crush. Even so, she couldn't help flattering the woman just a little.

"I've worked very hard to change," Regina said seriously. "There was a time when I might have been able to defeat her on my own. However," she held up her hands like they were useless tools, "since giving up magic, my powers have weakened ."

"Wait." Emma tossed a half eaten fry back into the basket, stomach clenching as she caught Regina's implication. "Don't tell me _I'm _supposed to help defeat this witch?"

While having remained perfectly poised until that very moment, Regina now nodded enthusiastically . "Your magic," her hand reached out for Emma's, halting abrubty before pressing against the tabletop instead, "_our _magic combined was stronger than any force I've witnessed in all my years."

Emma swallowed hard. "You're saying I have _magic_?"

Regina nodded. "The caveat being that you don't have your memories. Without them, your magic is useless."

This was too much. Emma didn't know the first thing about witches or magic, at least not as anything _real_. Her heart began to race, and she felt the urge to run as the air seemed to be sucked right out of her lungs. She wanted to grab Henry, get the hell out of this town and pretend her entire life hadn't just been flipped sideways. She wanted to say no, but then here was Regina staring at her like she was the answer when Emma couldn't even remember the question. As she looked into the other woman's pleading eyes, she realized walking away would be futile. Besides, if there was one thing motherhood had taught her, it was that facing your fears often brought about the most tremendous rewards. She was in Storybrooke to stay – at least for now.

"I see," Emma said breathily, hoping her moment of panic hadn't been too obvious. She didn't want to shake the other woman's faith in her; it was all she was holding onto at the moment. "This witch, does she have a name?"

"Certainly," Regina replied. "Although, you might recognize her best as The Wicked Witch of the West."

Emma choked. "As in 'I'll get you my pretty',and flying monkeys?" she squealed. "_That_ Wicked Witch?"

Regina shuddered, casually raising her glass to her lips for a sip. "Don't even get me started on those filthy animals."

"Great," Emma dropped her forehead heavily into her palm, her free arm gesturing broadly to indicate the whole of Storybrooke. "I guess there's no place like home, right?"

Regina smiled ruefully, taking pity on the girl. "We don't have to deal with all of this tonight," she said soothingly as Granny approached to collect their dishes. "It's been an overwhelming day, for you and for Henry. You both ought to get some rest." Regina caught the old woman's eye, adding, "I'm certain your room will be free of charge." There was almost a threat in her voice, and for the first time Emma could see a hint of the menacing woman Regina claimed to be.

"Absolutely," Granny agreed, playing it off like she'd meant to say so all along.

"Oh, no," Emma protested, already having accepted too much hospitality for one day. She couldn't fathom why people should want to do all these things for her, and she couldn't imagine she deserved it. "Really, I can pay. It's no big deal."

"Nonsense," Granny said, more sure of herself this time. "I won't hear another word about it. Ruby can get you all settled in next door. And don't worry," she added with a wink, "she'll know who you are."

Emma groaned internally. Everyone seemed to know who she was, and everyone acted like she was some celebrity. This "star treatment" was overwhelming. She was just a single mom trying to raise her kid. Maybe Supermom on a good day, but definitely no superhero.

Still, she smiled tightly, realizing she wasn't going to win this one either. "Thanks," she managed awkwardly, as Granny disappeared with the trays.

"Mom!" Henry clamored back to the table. Emma didn't miss the way Regina instinctively looked up at the same time as herself, nor the way she deflated upon realizing her error. What it must be like for her, Emma wondered, to see the boy again after all this time, while trying to pretend she doesn't even know him. Just as Emma was ready to reach out in comfort, Henry interrupted again. "I'm out of quarters," he announced in that insistent way that children do.

It was just as well, Emma thought with a sigh. She didn't really know how to offer solace in this situation anyway. He didn't even know who Regina was, and there wasn't much one could say to alleviate that kind of ache.

"Good timing, kid," Emma replied, gathering their things from the booth beside her. Henry slumped as she plopped a load into his arms, pouting over the end of playtime. "We're just about to head out."

Both women rose from their seats simultaneously, and suddenly Emma didn't know what to do. She had no idea how she would have bid this woman farewell pre-amnesia. A hug, even one armed, seemed a bit too familiar, while a handshake felt awfully cold.

"Thank you," Emma stalled. "For dinner, I mean."

"It was my pleasure." Regina smiled at her warmly, then Henry. "Truly."

"Well," Emma shrugged, "it was nice meeting you, Madame Mayor," then added awkwardly, "Or I guess I should say, 'seeing you again'?"

Softly, Regina's fingers reached out to ghost the other woman's pale wrist, making contact at last and giving Emma a rush as they slid into her palm. Clutched dotingly against Regina's chest, it was more like holding hands than a handshake. Regina's smile was just a little bit sad now, and the whole moment gave Emma the strongest sense of déjà vu.

"Likewise, Emma," the woman said earnestly, giving a little squeeze. "And please, call me Regina."

"Regina," Emma nodded, glancing at their hands, heart hammering. "Okay, then. Henry, did you thank Regina for dinner?"

"Thank you," Henry chimmed obediantly, smiling sweetly at their hostess.

"You are very welcome, Henry." For a moment, the sadness left Regina's smile as she placed a gentle finger under the boy's chin. "I do hope I'll be seeing more of you." She locked eyes with Emma again, running her thumb quickly over the back of the girl's hand. "Both of you."

"Me too." Emma bit her lip shyly as the other woman released her hold on each of them. "Goodnight, Regina."

Emma wished they didn't have to say goodbye so soon. That she could have taken Regina up on the offer to stay in her home. Emma imagined sitting up all night with the woman, just observing her and picking her brain. It was a silly fantasy – she was far to tired to stay up all night, and Regina probably wanted her beauty sleep, too. Plus, it's not like this was a date. She had her kid with her, for goodness sake. Or, _their_ kid, she supposed.

They were almost to the door when Regina's voice called them back. "Emma, wait."

"Is everything okay?" Emma asked, frowning with concern as the woman hurried to catch up with them.

Regina sighed, retrieving a leather bound notepad from her purse, followed by an equally expensive looking pen. Emma marveled again at this woman's elegance in every aspect of life. She probably drank fine wine out of crystal glasses and had things like real pearls in her jewelry box. Usually, Emma would call that high matienance and steer clear, but there was something alluring about it on Regina. Like she was a dainty oleander flower – beautiful to behold, and yet deadly to consume.

"Here is your parents' address," Regina spoke stiffly. Her script was predictably flawless, though her movements were suddenly jerky and aggressive, as if agitated by what she was writing. Or who she was writing about. "I'm sure they'll be eager to reunite. You can probably put it off until morning, but I wouldn't suggest trying to wait much longer than that. Trust me, they will find you."

The way Regina smirked at the end, Emma felt like she was missing the punch line. But, as usual, she had no idea what the joke might be.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you again for the really thoughtful reviews, they are the best possible reward to get as a fic writer! Clearly, Witch Hunt is officially the new favorite episode of SWEN! My intention with posting this story on Mondays was to alleviate any burns from the show the night before, though at least for this week my chapter will pale in comparison lol. Anyway, this is one of my favorite chapters, I pretty much adore my version of Henry (who is actually surprisingly similar to 3.12 Henry) but anyway would love to know what YOU all think! Thanks for reading!_

* * *

"Why are you freaking out?" Henry asked, watching Emma pace around her room at the B&B. "It's not like you're asking her out on a date."

"I know that!" Emma huffed, the creaking of floorboards coming to a halt as she paused to glare at the boy. "And I am not," she waved her fingers in dramatic air quotes, "freaking out."

"You are a little," he teased.

Sometimes she hated how perceptive her son was. Of course she wasn't asking Regina out on a date. She did, however, want to ask her a favor. And maybe she did find the woman attractive, and endearing, and just a little bit intimidating. "Why don't you go see if they've served breakfast yet?" Emma urged Henry out of the room. She'd never be able to untie her tongue with such a nosy audience. "I'll come find you when I'm done."

Henry smirked, easily seeing through his mother's ploy. "Okay," he shrugged, leaping down off the bed and heading out the door. Just when Emma thought she was in the clear, he popped his head back into the room. _"Oh, Regina!" _he cooed in his best girly voice, mocking his mother with loud kissing noises. Emma swatted him away playfully, chuckling at the kid's delight when he slammed the door and made his escape. Definitely way too perceptive.

Looking down at her cell, Emma released a shaking exhale. She smoothed her blouse and nervously fixed her loose curls, growling when she realized how pointless that was right now. Asking favors was hard for Emma. She was used to doing things alone, because that's the way she'd grown up. Alone. Without her parents. Parents that she was supposedly about to reunite with.

She didn't even know how she felt about it. She wasn't sure if she was still angry, or if she was excited, or a little of both. Emma had stopped even imagining they were out there at all. She had been perfectly content with her two-person family unit for many years, Henry filling every void with light. Even so, that helpless baby on the side of the road, that little girl who had been returned like merchandise, the young woman who had turned to a life of petty crime – those girls deserved answers. Answers Emma was determined to get for them.

Not by herself, though. As strong as she was, those other Emma's were still a part of her, and they were afraid. Regina had felt so safe, so familiar when everything was foreign. She needed someone to do this with her, but she didn't know how to ask. Not without sounding like she needed someone to hold her hand. She only wanted a little security, that's all.

If she kept thinking about it, she was never going to make the call. Emma hit the send button quickly, as if it would burn her, stomach flipping acrobatically with every ring. Just do what comes naturally, she told herself.

"Hello?"

The woman's voice gave her a sudden rush.

"Hey, Madame– Regina." Emma cringed, berating herself for the awkward redaction. That was just great. _Madame Regina. _Way to address her like a dominatrix, Emma thought to herself. So much for natural.

"Emma," Regina sounded pleasantly surprised anyway. "I hadn't expected to hear from you so soon. What can I do for you?"

"Well, um, here's the thing," Emma stumbled, failing desperately at lying. "I know you gave me my parents' address, but I don't really know how to get there, and this town isn't exactly on Google maps–"

"I'd be happy to give you directions," Regina offered, cutting off Emma's babbling. "Do you have a pen handy?"

Emma grit her teeth, tugging at blonde locks in frustration. She already had directions from Granny. And a map. So far, this plan was a bust.

"Um, no," Emma regrouped. "The thing is, I kind of came here on a flying boat, so I don't really have my car."

Regina chuckled. "If what you need is a ride, dear," she replied astutely, "all you had to do was ask."

A fierce blush was creeping up Emma's neck and onto her face. She pressed a clammy palm to her cheek, attempting to alleviate the burn. "I don't want to inconvenience you," she said sincerely. It was the most honest thing she'd uttered this whole conversation.

"It's no trouble at all," Regina dismissed the idea. "I'll just wait out front until you're finished."

So close. Emma knew any normal person would just ask outright, but the request wouldn't come. "Are you sure?" she asked instead. "I mean, it could take a while, right? You might get bored." Dumb, Emma thought. That was so dumb.

"What are you suggesting?" Regjna inquired, apparently tired of talking in circles.

"Nothing," Emma feigned aloofness. "I just thought maybe you might as well come in with us."

"I see," Regina replied sarcastically, and Emma suspected the woman was wise to her game. "I suppose I might as well, indeed. I will see you in 15 minutes."

The line went dead, Emma lettting out a tremendous, wheezing sigh as she tossed the phone onto her pillow. That really could have gone more smoothly, but at least the end result was what she wanted. Wiping sweaty palms on her black jeans, Emma quickly stopped in front of the full length mirror. She experimented first with tucking in her silky white button-up, then untucking it. She settled on tucked; it made her feel classier.

Adjusting well-worn yet stylish black boots and throwing her red jacket on over the whole ensable, Emma headed downstairs to collect her son. She found him thoroughly engaged in conversation among a group of entirely unfamiliar faces.

"Mom!" Henry exclaimed when he saw her. "These guys told me that one time you slayed a real live dragon!"

"Yeah?" she humored him a bit, not even bothering to ponder the truthfulness of it. Heaven only knew what was and wasn't true anymore. "That sounds pretty impressive." She snagged a piece of fruit from the table. Breakfast on the go. "Bet you didn't realize your mom was such a bad ass."

She winked, and Henry rolled his eyes. "Come on, kid," she nodded towards the exit. "Time to go."

The boy bid goodbye to his new acquaintances, scuttling to catch up. He leaned in close, whispering, "Is your _girlfriend _picking us up?"

Emma frowned, clicking her tongue disprovingly. "Would you quit taunting me about that?" she implored, lightly elbowing Henry's ribs and making him giggle. "What makes you so sure that I like her, anyway?"

"For one," Henry replied, holding out one finger for emphasis, "You did your hair all swirly today."

"They're called curls, kid," Emma laughed. "And so what? I curl my hair plenty. What else you got?"

"Well, for two," Henry held out a second finger while he thought. "Remember when you went on that health food kick last year?" He waited for Emma to nod in confirmation. She'd thought that maybe her subpar emotional state had been a matter of poor nutrition. It wasn't. "And then we passed by that bakery with the bear claws in the window?" Oh, yes. She definitely remembered that. Emma's mouth watered at the memory. "That's how you were looking at Regina," he finished with a smug grin.

Emma gasped indignantly. "I do not look at Regina like a bear claw!"

"Do too!" Henry jeered.

"Quiet," Emma pleaded, noticing Regina's car approaching. "No more talk about bear claws, or gazing at pastries of any kind, got it?" Henry nodded, but Emma wanted assurance. "Pinky swear?" She held up her little finger, and Henry hooked his around it with a sigh.

"I'm not going to blow your cover, Mom," he said flatly, like this was a game that had suddenly grown dull. That was going to have to do, because now Regina was pulling up to the curb.

Emma climbed into the front seat, with Henry in the back behind her.

"Hey," Emma greeted casually, making minimal eye contact to prove that she absolutely did _not _look at Regina like a delicious, forbidden pastry.

"Good morning, Emma, Henry," Regina replied cordially, nodding to them each in turn. "Shall we?"

Emma shrugged, not really ready, but doubting she ever truly would be. "Let's do it."

As the car began to move, Emma's stomach growled. Reminded of the fruit still in her hand, she brought it up to her lips.

"Really, Ms Swan?" Regina remarked incredulously. "An apple?"

Emma looked at her quizzically with wide, innocent eyes. "What's wrong with apples?"

"Nothing," Regina chortled darkly. "Just don't let your mother catch you eating one in my company."

Too soon, they were pulling up in front of an apartment building. Emma's heart was racing, but she didn't want to let Regina see how scared she was. Either she was doing a terrible job of hiding it, or the woman was incredibly perceptive, because a comforting hand appeared on her knee.

"I know you don't remember," Regina said gently, "but you _have_ been through this before. You survived it once, you will survive it again."

Somehow, that seemed to be just the right thing to say. Emma puffed, smiling gratefully. The hand disappeared, and the trio made their way inside.

Standing in front of the old wooden door, Emma looked back at Regina one more time for reassurance. After an encouraging nod, she raised her fist and knocked. She heard footsteps, her insides fluttering at the sound of twisting locks, and then suddenly the door was flung open.

On the other side stood a woman, definitely no older than she, with short dark hair and Emma's unmistakable chin. Her expression was one of wonderment, until a moment later when she began to weep. She was also incredibly pregnant. Of all things, that was entirely unexpected.

Emma just stared uncomfortably, trying to feel some sort of bond with this weeping stranger. The woman reached out her hands, cupping Emma's face fondly and smiling through her tears. All this doting affection was completely unsettling.

"You found us," the woman, Snow, managed to choke out.

"Well, I mean, not technically," Emma stuttered, freeing her face as she turned her head towards the sour looking woman down the hall. "Regina gave us a ride."

Snow's smile faded a bit, glancing down the hallway for the first time. She looked at Regina with the same questioning expression the woman had given Killian at the pier.

Regina sighed imperviously, pushing herself up off the wall. "They don't remember you," she stated curtly. "Now, are you going to invite us in, or not?"


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Thanks for the amazing reviews! I'm glad people enjoyed Henry comparing Emma's gazing to wanting a bear claw, because I cracked myself up with that one! A few people have commented on the length of the chapter or requested longer ones... they're all going to be about 1,800-2,000 words. That's just what I wrote. I'll keep longer chapters in mind for future fics! Awkwardly, this chapter is a bit short, but the next one is a little longer to compensate. Despite the length I really like this chapter so let me know what you think of Emma meeting her parents!_

* * *

Emma sat facing the kitchen, Henry to her right, a misty-eyed blonde man on the far side of the table. She had to keep reminding herself that, despite his youthful appearance, he was her father. Any other man who paid her so much unsolicited attention was headed for a knee to the groin.

Regina had opted for a stool at the breakfast bar, disinterestedly picking nonexistent lint off of her black trousers and matching vest. She was off to the side, but easily within Emma's sight at all times. She might not know Regina well, but here she was a familiar face and an ally, which is what Emma really needed.

Waddling over from behind the counter, Snow deposited two mugs of hot chocolate onto the table before returning for the other pair. Emma took the opportunity to observe the woman who had apparently given her life. She wore cropped red leggings and ballet flats, with what had to be a truly vintage maternity shirt. It had short sleeves and a rounded collar, buttoned to the neck, with a decorative little bow just below her clavicle. From that point down it was basically a floral patterned tent, white with tiny roses, leaving plenty of room for a growing belly and ending just around her thighs.

Upon Snow's second return, Emma realized something was missing. "Do you have any–"

"Cinnamon?" The woman finished merrily, holding up a shaker. She sprinkled a good amount onto her own beverage, then Emma's, and even Henry's.

"None for me, thanks," Regina quipped after Snow had already taken her seat, earning a not-quite imperceptible glare from their hostess. Emma hid her smirk behind a sip of hot chocolate.

"So," Emma fumbled, looking back and forth between matching looks of pure adoration. Apparently it was up to her to get the ball rolling. Deciding to go with the elephant in the room, so to speak, she gestured vaguely towards Snow's bump. Or perhaps 'mountain' would be more apt. "You're having a baby."

Amazingly enough, Snow's face lit up even brighter at the mention, placing both hands on her rounded abdomen. "Two, actually," she grinned proudly. "You're going to have a little brother _and_ a little sister!"

"Oh..." Emma drawled at the thought of infant siblings. "Okay, then." She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be excited about that. She wasn't sure how to feel about that at all. She'd always wanted brothers and sisters growing up, but she never imagined them being younger than her own son. The babies seemed to be a productive topic though, so Emma continued before conversation could stall. "Do you... have any names picked out?" she asked, trying to sound somewhat enthused.

Apparently enthusiam wasn't a problem, as her mother had enough of it for the both of them. "Oh, yes!" Snow exclaimed, grabbing her daughter's wrist. Emma didn't have time to react before her hand was pressed against the belly. That was certainly more intimacy than she'd been prepared for, even after the initial hug-fest. Emma had never liked anybody touching her belly when she was pregnant with Henry. Ever. Then again, she was in prison at the time. "This is James," the chipper woman announced, pulling Emma closer as she moved their hands to the far side of the mound. "And this is Johanna."

Snow looked at Emma expectantly, holding her hand hostage. "Neat," Emma finally mustered, with a grimace she hoped passed for a smile. One of the babies kicked at her arm, clearly claiming Snow as its territory. Emma retreated compliantly.

"So they're like," Henry scrunched his face curiously, "my baby aunt and uncle?"

His grandparents both chuckled heartily at the observation.

"Yeah, I suppose they are," David replied affectionately, tussling the boy's hair.

"Would you like to meet them?" Snow offered, extending her arms invitingly.

"Sure," Henry grinned, making his way around the table. Emma was relieved for the diversion, and thanked god that her kid was such a people person. Maybe he had inherited it from these two. He sure didn't get it directly from her, or his mumbling absentee of a father.

"James," Henry repeated as Snow placed the boy's hands on either side of her belly, "and Johanna?"

"Named for my brother, and Snow's friend," David explained. "Both of whom are... No longer with us."

A scoff was heard across the room. "Charming."

Snow's expression turned dangerous, craning her head towards the far woman when her belly prevented her from twisting. "Why are you even here, Regina?" she spat with a surprising shift in demeanor.

"I invited her," Emma interjected, feeling the prickle of defensiveness. She urged Henry out of the line of fire with a subtle look that sent him back to his seat.

Snow whipped back around. "Why?" she hissed quietly at her daughter. "You don't even know her."

"Yes, I do," Emma argued. "I mean, I don't, but I do. It's complicated." Snow eyed her strangely, and Emma willed herself not to blush. "She's not leaving."

David laughed good naturedly, easing the tension a bit. "Well," he proclaimed, "I guess you can take history away from the Savior, but that won't keep the Savior from repeating history." Emma had literally no idea what that was supposed to mean, but before she could ask, he continued. "Don't mind them, Emma," he glanced chidingly at Snow and Regina in turn. "As much as they pretend these days that their past is all water under the bridge, it's still a lot of water, and it has a tendency to overflow." At Emma's blank stare, he clarified, "They like to bicker."

"I do not _like_ to bicker!" Snow protested. "She intentionally provokes me!"

Regina simply sipped her coffee smugly while Snow huffed. Maybe the magnetic woman wasn't entirely sweet after all, Emma thought. But maybe that naughty smirk was also kind of alarmingly sexy. She shook the idea from her head. Parents. Kid. Focus.

"Well, Regina," Snow started up again, obviously trying to act nonchalant. "Maybe, since you are _apparently_ Emma's new best friend, it might make sense that you be the one tasked with helping restore her memories."

That plan sounded like spending a lot more time with Regina, without having to make anxiety inducing phone calls and excuses to do so. Emma liked that idea very much.

Regina smirked menacingly. "You'd trust me with your daughter?" she asked without skepticism.

This time, Snow didn't take the bait. "Crazy as it may seem, I know that if there's one person in this entire realm who will keep her safe," she turned her whole body in her chair, pinning Regina with a serious look, "It's you."

Something about the sentiment, and the following stunned silence, made butterflies erupt under Emma's ribs. Regina looked almost grateful for Snow's words, the dynamic between the two women having shifted completely from what it was only moments ago. David just nodded, his back still to Regina, completely missing the silent exchange.

"It is strange to see you two getting along so well," he mused. "Refreshing, but strange."

His words twisted and strangled the butterflies in Emma's gut. Apparently 'complex' had been code for something unpleasant. "We didn't get along?" Emma asked Regina dejectedly, staring with big, shining green eyes.

Regina looked down at her mug regretfully, running her finger along the rim. "Not in the strictest sense, no."

Snow held up both hands to halt the conversation. "But that's not important anymore," she declared enthusiastically.

"Yeah," Henry agreed. "You sure seem to like each other a whole lot now." Emma kicked his shin under the table, dismayed by his loud and obvious, "Ouch!"

"Careful, kid," she said with a glare. "Don't hurt yourself."

The rest of the visit went smoothly, if a bit awkward. Snow inquired about all the mundane details of their life, with a spotlight on the past year – since that was apparently the only one that was real. Emma couldn't give too much thought to the idea that everything for eleven years before that had never happened. If she did, she would start feeling nauseous and unanchored, so she focused on simply answering the questions. Of course, she had questions of her own. Everyone seemed so happy though, and Emma decided her questions could wait.

Not nearly soon enough, they were on their way out the door. It wasn't that Emma didn't like Snow and David. They were nice. Really nice. In fact, they were pretty much exactly as she'd always dreamed her parents would be when she was a child – almost _too_ exactly, being that they were currently her age. Emma was just overwhelmed by the emotions, both good and bad, and the never-ending affection. There was one little thing in particular that was eating at her, but she was trying her best to ignore it. She really needed some time to process.

Regina glanced at Emma as they buckled into their respective seats, a concerned frown forming over her eyes. "You're upset," she observed, without question. "What's wrong?"

Emma just shook her head. "Not now," she said quietly, using her eyes to indicate Henry in the back seat.

"Of course," Regina nodded. "Lunch at my place, then."

Emma knew there was no room for argument, so she simply sat back and allowed herself to be whisked away.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I'm a little relieved, I thought that last night's episode might end up negatively paralleling this chapter, and I was nervous! I won't say more than that, and I guess I don't really have anything specific to preface this chapter with, so I'll leave it at that! Never forget I'm a whore for thoughtful reviews!  
_

* * *

"This is where you live?" Emma admired the mansion on 108 Mifflin Street as they pulled into the driveway.

"Wow," Henry echoed her sentiment, oblivious to the fact that this was where he had grown up.

The inside was even more breathtaking, decorated with white marble and black lacquer. Emma felt like she was in a palace, which she supposed was probably rather ironic. Her gaze fell to Regina, and all of the beautiful things in the home paled in comparison to the woman herself. Every queen needs a palace, Emma thought, cheeks warming at the cheesy cliché.

"This way, dears," Regina herded the pair of gawkers toward the kitchen. "There will be plenty of time for a tour later." She set about preparing lunch – cold sandwiches and fruit salad all around – refusing any offers for assistance. Emma and Henry sat obediantly on stools at the breakfast bar while they waited.

"Henry, why don't you take your sandwich into the living room," Regina suggested, handing him a plate. "There's a big screen TV in there that you can watch while you eat."

"Cool!" Henry accepted the meal and headed out of the room, not before shooting his mom a sly glance. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Don't make a mess!" she yelled, knowing her son's eating habits.

"I normally wouldn't condone eating in front of the television," Regina explained, "but since he doesn't remember, I'll make an exception."

Emma smiled nervously, opting not to mention the weekly TV dinners she and Henry enjoyed while watching their favorite show. Only on Sundays, it's not like they were the Wormwoods. They didn't eat in front of the television all the time.

Regina sat down in the seat Henry had vacated, sighing as Emma poked listlessly at her sandwich. "Are you ready to tell me what this is about?" she asked.

"It's stupid, really," Emma shrugged. She continued making patterns in the soft bread, finding it easier to watch her finger prodding the surface than to meet Regina's eye. "I had a family, once. When I was a baby. They were supposed to be my forever family. But when I was three, they had a baby of their own, and they sent me back. Now, knowing about the twins, I just..." Emma sighed, feeling too foolish to complete the thought.

"You feel like you're being replaced," Regina finished sympathetically.

Emma sniffled, telling herself she absolutely would not cry about this in front of Regina. "It's pathetic, right?" she laughed humorlessly. "I'm an adult, it's not like I need 'Mommy and Daddy' now. But, even though I don't remember them, I just can't help thinking that it's only been a year. Snow is about ready to pop, which means they barely waited a couple months before getting started on their shiny new babies... Before they forgot about me."

"Emma," Regina smiled softly, placing a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. "That simply isn't true. Even after becoming pregnant, your parents never stopped fighting tirelessly to get back here. To get back to _you_." Emma peered up at her, not quite certain if she really believed it. "I assure you dear," Regina continued, "you are quite irreplaceable."

Emma scoffed. "To who?"

"To your parents," Regina said firmly. "To Henry, and to..." she wavered uncharacteristically, "to a great many people in this town."

Emma smiled timidly, feeling self conscious about exposing such personal feelings to the woman. Even so, she took comfort in Regina's certainty. It would take some time before it didn't hurt so much, but this was a start. Apparently, there actually were benefits to letting someone in, even if just a foot in the door.

Regina stared fondly into Emma's eyes, fingers still caressing her shoulder. Emma stared back, feeling a rush of heat wash over her, wondering if Regina could possibly be one of those people who found her so uniquely invaluable.

"Emma, about what your father said," Regina began, breaking eye contact. "About us not getting along before–"

"No," Emma stopped her. "Snow's right, that's not important anymore." Now it was Regina who looked up skeptically, and Emma gave an assuring smile. "You said you've worked hard to change. Well, I want to get to know that woman you've become. Who you were doesn't matter."

Regina shook her head. "The woman I was is still a part of me."

"Then I'll get to know her along with the rest of you, won't I?" Emma said with a confident smirk.

"I suppose so," Regina chuckled, shaking her head. "You always were so bullheaded."

Emma grinned victoriously, deciding to take the jab as a compliment. "So it's agreed," she reiterated. "No pointless rehashing of past transgressions."

"Agreed," Regina nodded amicably.

They turned back to their meals, eating in a comfortable silence. Well, mostly comfortable. Emma was hyper aware of her manners, eyeing Regina and attempting to mimic her etiquette. It's not like Emma was some uncultured swine, she knew how to hold a fork and knife, and to keep her elbows off the table. Regina just did everything with such exquisite precision, and while Emma didn't dare hope to be so elegant, she would at least attempt to appear adequate.

"Mom?" Henry called from somewhere nearby, though still out of sight. "Are you guys... decent?" Emma resisted the urge to plant her face in her palm. This kid was going to be the death of her.

"Yes, Henry," she groaned. "You can come in."

Regina actually appeared amused. Emma, however, was not.

After lunch, Emma began to worry that perhaps they'd taken up too much of the woman's day already. Regina was the mayor, after all. Surely she had more important things to do. Reluctantly, Emma requested a ride back to the B&B, tilting her head in confusion when she was informed that wouldn't be necessary.

"Come," Regina smirked. "I have a surprise for you."

She lead them outside, down the front walk, and there on the street was Emma's surprise.

"Whoa! Look, Mom!" Henry exclaimed. "It's your Bug!"

"I thought you gave up magic," Emma asked, dumbstruck to see her car here in Storybrooke. "Or had weakened powers, or something."

"I did, and I do," Regina nodded. "But conjuring objects isn't terribly difficult. I began working on it last night, after we parted. I thought you might find it comforting to have something familiar."

"I... Yes," Emma stuttered, amazed that someone would do this for her. "Thank you, Regina. That's really, really thoughtful."

"I'm so glad you like it," Regina grinned proudly. "Well, I won't keep you any longer," she said, placing a hand on each of her guests' shoulders. "Drive safely, Emma."

Emma nodded, thanking the other woman again before she and Henry got into the car. She quickly determined it was indeed hers and not just a clone. Regina was right, having something of her own here was comforting. Her car predated even Henry, and was definitely not a part of any curse or false memory. It was something tangible and dependable.

"Hey, kid," Emma said as they neared their destination, deciding it was time for a little chat. "You've got to stop saying weird crap in front of Regina."

"Why?" he asked. "She thinks it's funny."

"Well, I don't," Emma said. "You're going to give her the wrong idea."

"That you like her?"

"Yeah."

"But you do like her."

"That doesn't mean I want her to know that."

"How do you expect to get her to date you if she doesn't even know you like her?" Henry asked sincerely. Clearly he had forgotten their actual reason for being here.

"I'm not trying to get her to date me!" Emma exclaimed.

"Okay," the boy said deviously.

"I'm serious, Henry."

"I said 'okay'." He petulantly crossed his arms as they pulled up to the curb. Emma continued to eye him dubiously as she flung open her door, knocking a man down in the street as she did so.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" she apologized profusely, leaping out of the car to help the man to his feet. "I was looking at my kid, I didn't see you there."

"Honest mistake," the scruffy blonde man said with a grimace. Finally taking a good look at his assailant, he seemed to realize something. "You must be Emma."

As uncomfortable as it made her that everyone in this town knew who she was, Emma found this man's guessing made her even more wary.

"Maybe," she answered dryly. "Who's asking?"

The man laughed like he'd expected such a welcome from her. "My name is Robin. I'm a friend of Regina's." He shook Emma's hand, then pointed to her car. "Forgive me for prying, but I thought Hook brought you in on his ship?"

"Oh, yeah," Emma followed his gaze with a smile. "Regina conjured that up for me."

Robin frowned. "Did she now?" he said cryptically, before plastering on a grin. "Well, Emma," his demeanor seemed to have shifted quite intentionally. "I must be off. It was lovely to finally make your acquaintance."

"Yeah," Emma replied, frowning skeptically herself. "Same."

From down the street, Killian approached the car as Robin continued on his original path.

"Who is that?" Emma asked, still watching the retreating man with a suspicious scowl.

"That," Killian replied, "is the man who convinced Regina to give up magic." Emma gave him a bewildered look, and he clamped his good hand heavily on her shoulder. It was nothing like Regina's delicate caress. "Come on, Swan," he beseeched her. "Let me buy you a drink."

"It's not even three in the afternoon," Emma argued.

"What's that saying you have here?" he persisted. "It's five o'clock somewhere."

In need of a little fun after the events of the last couple days, Emma agreed. She made Henry promise to stay in his room or the common areas of the B&B, then joined Killian in the diner.

A drink turned into several, and Emma found herself actually having a good time with the pirate, as well the waitress, Ruby, who joined them at the end of her shift. Eventually, though, the good captain began to get a bit handsy, and once he began professing his love for Emma she decided it was time to retire. She hauled herself up the stairs of the B&B, checking in on Henry before finding her bed and collapsing, passing out as much from exhaustion as from the alcohol.

The next morning she walked outside, intending to go for a run. It was another habit she had picked up in the last year, as an attempt to clear her head. Instead, the first thing she saw was Regina, speaking animatedly to that man, Robin, from yesterday.

Quickly ducking behind the shrubbery, Emma inched as close as she could to the conversation. She knew that eavesdropping was wrong, and no doubt Regina would have been appalled with her for doing so, but she didn't like this supposed friend. It was hard to say if it was actually him, or just Emma's jealousy, but it didn't really matter because she was already listening.

"It was one little spell," she heard Regina say flippantly.

"And what did one little spell lead to before?" Robin chastised. "What happened after you used magic to send your mother to Wonderland?

Regina sighed. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"I certainly hope not," the man said gruffly. "I did my part in getting you back here, so that you could find your happy ending. I expect you to do your part as well." His tone actually softened a bit as he added. "Your True Love will love you for you, not for your magic. Don't forget that."

Hearing Robin depart, Emma sighed in relief. Maybe it was just her jealousy. She really would have to get a hold on that. After all, she'd only known the woman a couple days, it's not like Emma had dibs on her. And she certainly didn't want such a volitle emotion dictating her actions.

Acting as if she'd only just exited the building, Emma emerged from her hiding place.

"Emma," Regina smiled warmly. "I was just coming to see you."

"Oh?" Emma feigned surprise. "Well, here I am." She smiled awkwardly, gesturing in the direction Robin had gone. "So, how do you know that guy?"

"Just a friend," Regina replied casually.

Emma's superpower told her there was more to the story, but she forced herself to let it go.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I don't really have much to preface this chapter with either! Tremendous thanks as always to every one who is giving this story a read, and pretty please let me know what you think!_

* * *

It had been a week, with Emma and Henry eating dinner at the mansion almost every night. The kid seemed quite taken with Regina, and the joy it brought to the woman's face made Emma melt. Such a contrast from the desolate look those brown eyes had held at the pier.

Emma was getting more comfortable around Regina, too. There was less bumbling and fewer awkward excuses, though inside her stomach still flipped at the sparest of glances. It was the strangest thing, Emma thought. She wasn't known for having crushes, or pining after anyone. Truth be told, she really had no trouble finding herself on the receiving end of such feelings from others. She rarely returned her lovers' sentiments, but enjoyed having someone to keep her company a while. As soon as she felt they were getting too attached, she moved on.

Regina was different, though. Regina was under Emma's skin, racing around her brain, clenching her gut and stealing her heart. Worse of all, Emma figured the woman probably didn't even know what she was doing to her. She sighed despondently, but then Henry said something to make Regina laugh, and Emma relished the fact that at least she got to enjoy that smile right now.

"I've been doing a lot of research," Regina said, turning her attention to Emma. "And I think I have some ideas as to how we might go about restoring your memories."

"Really?" Emma asked anxiously. She was equal parts nervous and eager to get her memories back. She was afraid of what she might learn, but she valued truth more.

"There are no guarantees," Regina was quick to clarify. "But it's a place to begin."

"Okay," Emma nodded, trying to be brave. "Great, then. When do we start?"

"Whenever you're ready," Regina said. Apparently she saw right through Emma's act, adding assuredly, "And not a moment before."

Emma had never thought herself to be so much of an open book. Then again, maybe no one else had ever bothered to looked past the cover. It made her feel a bit naked, but then Regina's compassion wrapped around her like a warm blanket. The woman knew all Emma's weak points, but instead of using them against her, Regina protected them.

"I'm ready now," Emma said with false bravado. "I just want to get it over with."

"Of course," Regina agreed, refilling Emma's wine glass. She set the bottle back on the table, staring at it pensively for a moment. "I was also thinking you might reconsider my offer to stay here." Regina held up a hand as Emma moved to protest. "You're here every night for dinner anyway, and it would be far more convenient while working on our memory dilemma. Henry could stay in his old room–"

"My old room?" Henry interrupted, frowning in confusion.

Emma panicked briefly, but didn't let it show. "Own," she covered quickly. "She said you can stay in your _own_ room."

"Yes," Regina confirmed, looking at Emma apologetically. "I simply meant that there's enough space for everyone."

He eyed both women suspiciously, and Emma held her breath. She hoped she wouldn't have to have this conversation with him until after he had his memories back. Explaining that Regina was the one who had raised him, that she was also his mother, would be too much. He might not have any problem believing in flying ships and dragons, but the idea that the only mother he remembered hadn't actually been there at all until recently – it would devastate him. It devastated Emma, if she let herself think about it. At least once they had their old memories, he might understand. They both might.

Eventually he shrugged and turned back to his food, both women sighing in relief.

"I think we should stay here," the boy declared. "Regina makes really good dinner, and I bet she makes better breakfast than Granny."

"Henry, Regina is not offering to be your personal chef," Emma chastised.

Regina just chuckled. "Although, I dare say I make excellent waffles. What do you say, Ms Swan?"

Two sets of eyes stared at Emma hopefully. Henry really wanted to stay here. Regina seemed hellbent on making that happen. The thing of it was, Emma wanted it too. It was like the three of them were inextricably connected, some unseen force pulling them closer and closer together. Like it was meant to be that way.

"If you're sure," Emma said, ever shy about accepting hospitality. Smirking, she added, "I do like waffles," making Regina grin. This could be dangerous, Emma thought, subjecting herself to living in such close proximity with that radiant smile. But the deal was already made, and she couldn't find it in herself to regret it.

By the time dinner was finished and the dishes were done, it was getting rather late. Both women could tell that their son was more tired than he was pretending to be, and agreed it would be best if they waited until morning to move their things. That meant spending another night at the B&B, and Emma would have been lying if she said she wasn't disappointed when they had to leave. One look at her sleepy boy, though, and she knew it was non optional.

Regina tenderly touched his cheek as they bid farewell. Maybe because he was so tired, or maybe he really had grown that fond of the woman already, Henry leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Regina's waist. She looked as though she'd forgotten how to breathe, clasping one arm around his back and cradling his head with the other. Her nose tipped discreetly towards his hair, and Emma knew that she was basking in his scent the way that only mothers do. He gazed up affectionately as he pulled back, and Emma wondered if Henry felt the same tug of familiarity in Regina's presence that she did.

Emma slowly turned away from the woman, intent on following Henry as he passed by on his way to the car.

"Emma," Regina's soft voice spun her back around. "I'm glad you changed your mind."

"Me too," she replied, peering shyly at the ground and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. No one had ever made her melt with such simple sentiments before. After a final shared glance, Emma dipped her head and made her exit.

Climbing into the car, she flopped back heavily against her seat, sighing contentedly before collecting herself and starting the engine. The drive back started out quiet, and for a while Emma wondered if Henry had fallen asleep. She hoped not; she would hate to wake him, and he was far too big for her to carry inside anymore.

"You still with me, kid?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," he yawned. "Just thinking."

"Anything worth sharing?" Emma inquired.

Henry shrugged. "I was just imagining what it would be like if we lived with Regina forever."

Emma's stomach lurched. She had hardly known the woman long enough for such thoughts to even cross her mind. True, she craved the innocent touch of Regina's hand on her back, maybe a kiss when her mind ran away from her. But she'd never dared imagine anything beyond that. And while the idea of sharing her life with someone who loved her son as much as she did was wonderful, forever was an awfully long time to think about. More than anything, though, she didn't want Henry getting his hopes up.

"Don't go thinking thoughts like that," she said, trying to keep a lighthearted tone. "That's just asking for disappointment."

Another shrug. "We'll see."

Emma sighed. He never did listen to her about things like this. Once Henry got an idea in his head, he was the only one who could get it out. She would just have to be careful not to fan the flames.

They shuffled tiredly into the B&B to find Ruby slumped lethargically over the front desk. "Hey guys," the girl perked up at the sight of them, smiling cheekily. "You're back pretty late tonight."

"Dinner at Regina's," Emma said casually.

"Again," Ruby teased.

Emma just pressed her lips together and shrugged. "About that, actually," she added sheepishly. "We'll be, uh, checking out in the morning."

Ruby's smile transformed into a shit eating grin. "Shacking up with the mayor already, huh?" she asked wickedly. "Guess that old U-Haul syndrome is nothing to sneeze at."

"It's not like that," Emma insisted, feeling the heat creeping up her chest. "Anyway, I just thought I would let you know."

"Em, wait up," Ruby called as the duo made for the stairs. "Come out with me tonight."

"I don't know, Ruby," Emma protested. "It's been a long day, and Regina's expecting us pretty early tomorrow."

"Please?" the other woman pressed. "Your mom's practically too pregnant to walk, let alone do anything fun. Belle's been busy 'catching up' with Rumple since his return. Ella's stuck at home with the baby. You're my only hope!"

Emma placed a hand over her heart. "Wow, I'm touched," she said dryly.

"C'mon," Ruby stomped petulantly. "I didn't mean it like that. We'll have fun, I swear. It'll be like a stag night."

Emma rolled her eyes, but laughed. "Fine," she said, making Ruby bounce with glee. "As long as you promise not to call it that ever again."

Escorting Henry upstairs, Emma reminded him to call if anything was wrong and that Granny was nearby in the case of an emergency. She stopped in her room, checking her jeans and tank top combo in the mirror. It wasn't particularly glamorous, but Emma thought it would still suffice. Plus, the top sported a rather modest neckline, and she really wasn't looking to get hit on by oglers tonight.

Ruby did not seem to share that goal, in tight black jeans, stiletto heels and a red bustier top. She looked a bit disappointed with her companion's attire, but Emma knew that beggars couldn't be choosers, and Ruby didn't comment.

They walked to a bar called The Rabbit Hole just down the street. The more Ruby drank, the chattier she got. "You know what? All of my friends get amnesia," she announced. "Snow drank that potion that made her all mean. Belle crossed the town line, and then she was Lacey, and Lacey wasn't very nice. And now you! But at least you're still nice."

Ruby was definitely feeling loosened up, Emma deduced while trying hard to stay in the conversation. Her mind kept drifting back to Regina, and to Henry's comment in the car.

"Can I ask you something?" Emma inquired abruptly, unsure if she cut the other woman off or not. "Regina and I agreed not to dredge up the past, but I keep thinking about something David said. He made it sound like Regina and I were oil and water, but we get along so well now. Was our relationship really that bad?"

Ruby sipped her cocktail thoughtfully. "Your relationship was... complicated–" there was that word again, "–but you were never oil and water. You're more like magnets that keep switching poles. Drawn to each other, until someone shifts. Then you repel, until someone shifts again. You always come back together. It's kind of incredible, actually."

Emma smiled. It wasn't exactly the answer she'd been anticipating. At worst she had expected to have her fears confirmed, and at best hoped to have them eradicated. What she got instead was something real, and as far as Emma was concerned, that was so much better.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Well, once again I don't have much to preface with... Who'd have thought? Me with a lack of things to say? Haha! As always, I shall remind you that reviews are the best (and only) payment fic writers get, and they mean so very much! Thanks, and enjoy!_

* * *

Relocating to Regina's had gone smoothly, save for one little hiccup when Emma saw Henry's old room for the first time. Her throat constricted, and there was an unwelcome burning behind her eyes as they took in the decor. A few of the items were maybe a bit out of date – after all, kids change a lot in a year. But there was no doubt that this had once been her son's sanctuary.

"Why do you have a kid's room?" Henry asked Regina curiously.

"I..." Regina faltered. "I have a son as well."

"Where is he now?"

Regina looked into Henry's eyes sadly. "I had to let him go," she replied honestly. "But I do hope I will get him back, one day."

"I'm sure he misses you," Henry said confidently, looking around the room. "I bet me and him would get along really well." He glanced at Emma, confusion settling over his face. "Mom? Are you crying?"

"No," Emma said firmly, though it was an obvious lie. "It's just a really sad story. I can't imagine losing my kid, letting you go."

It was a partial truth. In reality, seeing his room had made everything suddenly a little too real. It was easy enough for Emma to say she believed what she was told, while continuing to ignore the truth. That is, until the truth refused to be cast aside any longer, rearing its ugly head without warning and staring her straight in the eye. He really had lived here. She really had given him up.

The warmth of Regina's hand appeared on her shoulder with gentle pressure, and Emma took a deep breath at the calming gesture. At least he'd had a good home, she reminded herself. He'd had a mother to love him, even if it hadn't been Emma.

Later that night, after Henry was asleep, Emma asked the other woman why she had been so quick to comfort her. It seemed awfully backwards – after all, Regina was the one who'd been missing him for the better part of a year.

"I know now what it's like," Regina replied, "choosing to live without that which you love because you love it enough to let it go." She fixed Emma with a most serious stare. "That is what you did for Henry. Don't ever let yourself believe any differently."

Emma thought of the sadness she had seen in Regina's eyes, knowing now that it was a look of loss. She thought of the hollowness she'd felt for the past year, and determined they were both empty in their own way. Still, she nodded, promising she would try to believe.

They didn't talk about it again after that, choosing instead to throw themselves into the dilemma at hand. Slowly, reality faded back into obscurity, and Emma buried the feelings away again. She would deal with them some other time.

A few days later at breakfast, Henry decided to challenge Emma's desire to keep him at all when he popped up with an unexpected question.

"Do you date women?" he asked Regina boldly. The woman's eyes went wide as she choked on her coffee.

"Henry!" Emma gasped. Maybe it was an exaggeration to say she would have disowned the kid, but Emma was certainly mortified.

"My mom dates women sometimes," Henry carried on, as if he hadn't noticed either reaction. "Well, only for like the past year. But also when she was younger."

Emma's entire body was on fire. A glance in Regina's direction was more than she could handle, knowing her blazing red skin was already giving her away. "Kid," she groaned, hiding her face in her hands, "you can _not _just go around asking people those kinds of questions! That's personal stuff!" Emma summoned up the courage to peer at Regina, still hiding her rosey cheeks behind her palms as best she could. "I'm so sorry. Please, don't feel like you have to answer that."

For a long moment there was silence, and Emma worried Regina had truly been upset by the invasion. Henry was definitely going to be getting a talking to about what was and was not appropriate conversation. Emma was about to apologize again, when at last the other woman spoke.

"I have never dated a woman, no," Regina said gravely. Emma was struck silent as her heart sunk. Maybe she hadn't sat around imagining an entire lifetime with Regina the way Henry did, but there was still that part of her that had wondered. That part that dared to hope, that secretly longed for the same thing as her son. Now, that part of her seemed to have been shattered.

"However," Regina continued her thought, "that's not to say I am opposed to the option." Emma blushed anew as the broken pieces came back together, with little telltale cracks that proved just how much she really cared. Maybe she wanted this more than she was willing to admit. She felt Regina's gaze on her, but didnt dare look up this time. If she did, she was sure her eyes would give everything away.

The doorbell rang, startling all three of them as the sound cracked through the tension. Regina caught Emma's eye across the table, excusing herself with an apologetic nod. For once, Emma was actually relieved by the woman's departure, hoping she might regain control of her flustered nerves by the time Regina returned.

Once they were alone, Emma's hand shot out to deliver an annoyed flick against Henry's shoulder. "What the hell was that?" she hissed under her breath. Henry just shrugged with an unremorseful grin. Oh, hell no, Emma thought, glaring at him menacingly. The kid actually thought he was playing Cupid.

Before she could reprimand him further, the voice of their unexpected visitor trailed into the kitchen. "No one could be bothered to tell me Emma's back in town?"

Something about the sound made her blood run cold. It wasn't just that the man had called her by name – she was used to being recognized by strangers by now. What unnerved her was that there was actually something familiar about the voice, something she couldn't quite place.

"You shouldn't be here," Regina told him, in that dark tone Emma had heard her use so rarely.

"Like hell I shouldn't," he pushed. "I want to see her. I want to see them both."

Emma's gut twisted. The man knew Henry, too. Not that he was the first to recognize the boy, but she didn't like that he seemed to have a particular interest in her son.

"She doesn't remember anything," Regina reiterated coldly. "She won't be happy to see you."

"We'll see about that," he scoffed. "Emma!"

Despite her eavesdropping, Emma startled when he shouted her name. "Stay here," she instructed Henry as she got up. The man seemed pretty persistent. She didn't want any trouble for Regina, but she wouldn't involve the kid ether.

"Regina, what the hell is–"

Emma froze when she saw the man's face. No, she thought, her heart beginning to race and her hands trembling. Oh God, no. It couldn't be.

Slowly, as if her feet had suddenly grown heavy and the air around her suddenly too thick, she moved towards him. Her wide, disbelieving eyes never strayed from his face.

"Hey, Em," he smiled, sounding less confident than he had while speaking to Regina.

Fire raged under her skin at the familiarity of his greeting. It wasn't until she felt the burning in her palm that Emma realized she had slapped him.

"What the _hell_ are you doing in Storybrooke, Neal," she seethed, feeling a small sense of retribution as he reached up to sooth his reddened cheek.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Regina haughtily provoked him. She stood with one hand still perched on the open door, as if ready to slam it in his face.

"You know who this is?" Emma turned to Regina, startling the other woman with an accusatory tone.

"He is the son of Rumplestiltskin," Regina replied, looking much less smug now that she was in Emma's bad graces.

"Great," Emma bit sarcastically. "But I think you know that's not what I meant."

Regina sighed, casting her gaze downwards as she confessed, "He is Henry's biological father."

"His _only_ father, actually," Neal interjected territorially.

"You, shut up a minute," Emma snapped, pointing a menacing finger in his direction. "And you," she turned back towards Regina, "you knew he was here the whole time and you never told me?"

"I wasn't certain it was my place," Regina replied. Emma noticed the woman did look appropriately ashamed of herself, but something still hurt. Regina was supposed to be her safety, the one person in this town who she could trust.

Emma wasn't entirely sure if this counted as a violation of that trust, but right now she was too heated to be completely rational. "Right," she scoffed. "Because being blindsided at breakfast is so much better."

"Am I allowed to talk yet?" Neal inquired from his place just outside the door. Emma glared venomously, but didn't silence him. "I know you see me as the bad guy right now, and that's okay. I probably would too, if I were you. And I promise I won't to try to make you understand or forgive me until you're ready. I just want to see my kid."

"Henry knows him?" Emma asked Regina without looking at her.

"Yes," Regina replied dutifully. "You and Henry are the ones who brought him here."

Emma didn't like having to rely on others to tell her what she had or had not done. It was like the day after a night of getting blackout drunk, but on a much larger scale. She had no idea what had happened between her and Neal in the time they'd both been in Storybrooke. It almost seemed as though she had forgiven him, however hard that was for her to believe.

All she really knew for certain was how she felt right now, and right now she was angry. She was angry that she hadn't known he was here. She was angry that she'd gone to prison for his crimes. She was angry that, because of his actions, she had raised her son alone for over a decade. She was angry because that wasn't actually true. She was angry because she couldn't remember the truth.

Emma was very, very angry. But, she forced herself to remember, this was about Henry.

"You have to give me some time," she said as calmly as she could. "You have to let me talk to him, let me try to explain."

Neal nodded in agreeable understanding. "Just don't take too long, alright?"

"Yeah," Emma huffed.

Neal glanced at Regina with a look that was almost apologetic, but seemed to say that he would do exactly the same thing again if ever given the choice. With that, he slowly backed away and down the walk, Regina shutting the door gently behind him.

There was a tense silence as the two women seemed to debate over what to say to one another now. Emma was still angry, and Regina seemed to be finding the floor of great interest at the moment.

"I am sorry, Emma," Regina offered with soft sincerity.

Rubbing the now tense muscles in her neck, Emma sighed. She wasn't ready to hear an apology right now. She brushed passed Regina, simply stating, "I need to go talk to my son," quite curtly before she walked away.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Those of you requesting longer chapters should be pleased, as this one ended up being significantly longer than the rest! Reviews are the only way I know if people are still interested in or enjoying the story, so please take a moment to leave some thoughts! I haven't finished writing chapter 10 yet, so if you want it posted on time I could really use the motivation!_

* * *

Henry took the news about Neal quite a bit better than his mother. Regardless of what had happened in real life, in Emma and Henry's minds the kid had always known the truth about his father. Apparently, Emma would later be informed, Regina had concocted that particular memory for them quite intentionally. Henry hated liars.

He had of course been spared the gruesome details that no child really needed to hear. Still, he knew the man was a criminal. He knew that the reason Neal had never been a part of his life was because Emma had been sent to prison at his father's hand. When Emma told Henry that Neal wanted to see him, the conflict was clear in his eyes. She knew knowing the truth had never stopped him from being curious about his biological roots, and she knew he felt guilty for it. It was written all over his face – how could he want to know the man who'd treated his beloved mother so badly? But he never even had to utter the words, Emma instinctually promising him he had every right to want to meet his father. After all, she'd never really stopped wanting to know the parents she believed to have left her alone on the side of the road, either.

Neal's unexpected visit had left its fingerprints on Emma's relationship with Regina as well. She wasn't even sure she was angry anymore. What Emma felt was something more along the lines of disappointment, and she wondered if maybe she'd been holding Regina to an impossibly high standard. Either way, things had been tense around the house ever since. Following the encounter, Emma had kept her distance the rest of the afternoon. The next day had been like going through the motions. It was obvious that her chilly demeanor was hurting Regina, and that the woman was filled with regret. Emma didn't trust easily, though, and had just been slapped with a scruffy-faced reminder of just why that was.

She knew in her heart that Regina was nothing like Neal. Sure, trust could be gained and lost in many different ways. But an omission of truth was a far cry from a frame job. Wasn't it?

Regardless, it wasn't even like Emma had the urge to run, which was perhaps the most unexpected thing in this whole scenario. She wasn't one to stick around when things got messy. Yet, Emma found she still wanted to be here, to be with Regina. She just needed some space.

On the third day, Regina wandered aimlessly into the living room just as Emma was ending a call.

"Fine," Emma muttered grumpily into the receiver. "We'll see you then."

"What was that about?" Regina asked, leaning against the doorway with arms folded protectively across her chest.

Emma tossed the phone aside and flopped back against the couch. "Neal," she replied, sighing and rolling her eyes dramatically. "He wants to see Henry tonight."

"And you're going to let him," Regina stated, clearly unimpressed.

"He's his father," Emma retorted defensively, frowning. "And Henry wants to see him, too."

"Well," Regina smiled caustically, bitterness dripping off her words. "I suppose it was only a matter of time before the three of you began playing happy family together, now wasn't it?" She pushed herself up off the wall with a snarl and made to leave.

"Oh, no," Emma countered, leaping to her feet before Regina could make her exit. "There is no 'happy family' happening here. Henry is spending time with his father. _Just_ _Henry_," she reiterated strongly, inching closer until she was practically nose to nose with Regina. "Now, I don't know what things were like between Neal and I in Storybrooke before, and I don't care. I don't trust him. And certainly not with my kid. So _I _will be spending my night keeping an eye on them, and _you _will be keeping me company!"

She'd intended to make dragging Regina along for the ride to be a sort of punishment, but instead Emma noticed something more like relief pass over the woman's face. The anticipated resistance never came either, Regina simply nodding her consent. "Very well," she said, much more gently, bowing her head as she took her leave. Emma felt her heart soften. She wouldn't be able stay upset with the woman much longer.

Neal arrived to pick up Henry after supper, just in time for dessert, and just after dark. Just as Emma had planned. It was a lot easier to spy on someone under the cover of night.

The two women stood in the foyer, both tight lipped and bitter as their son followed his father down the front steps. They smiled stiffly when the boy turned around at the door with a bright grin, and returned his enthusiastic wave. The door shut and their expressions dropped.

"Get your coat," Emma ordered gruffly, marching away without waiting for a response.

The pair hurriedly made their way out the door, Regina following Emma's lead. Pulling out the keys to her yellow Bug, the jingling of metal seemed to act as a warning bell, and Emma did not miss the other woman's sudden halting skepticism.

"Are you sure this is the best plan?" Regina asked cautiously.

Emma scowled at the inquiry. "You're welcome to stay home if you don't like it," she shot back tersely, kicking herself the moment she said it. While it had seemed an immensely satisfying remark as it was coming out of her mouth, the thought that Regina could actually take her up on the offer had failed to occur. Emma didn't want Regina to stay home at all. No matter how pissed she was, Emma really needed the woman with her tonight. Neal's presence put her on edge, letting him take Henry made her nervous, and everything about this town still made her question her sanity. Everything except Regina, and right now Emma desperately needed that anchor.

"I meant the car," Regina replied calmly, with the restraint of a woman speaking to a petulant child. "It's quite... Distinctive."

Emma sighed in relief, careful not to let it show now that she and her big mouth were in the clear. She was still trying to be angry, after all. "I know what I'm doing," she said curtly, yanking the door open and indignantly plopping herself down into the driver's seat.

Regina rolled her eyes at the theatrics, but still rounded the vehicle to the passenger side. "And to think," she mused sarcastically as she opened the door, "I'd nearly forgotten how _maddeningly_ stubborn you are."

Neither woman spoke as they drove, and it was as if all the silence of the last few days had accumulated and settled in the air around them. It felt louder than any sound Emma had ever heard, and she wasn't sure she could take it. She didn't want to be angry at Regina anymore.

If she were truly honest with herself, Regina wasn't even the object of her anger now. Put simply, Emma was angry about being angry. It had been a childish illusion to think that there could be anyone, in this realm or any other, with whom one would never be at odds in anyway. And it would be awfully dull, Emma mused, to get along and agree with someone absolutely all the time. Regina was simply as flawed as any other human being – or perhaps slightly more so, if the accounts of others were anything to go by. Though, it occurred to Emma that neither the harsh words of others, nor her own experience had managed dampen the ever-growing feelings she was developing for the woman beside her.

They parked outside Granny's diner, watching Henry and Neal through the window as they ordered ice cream cones at the counter. Father and son took their dessert to-go, enjoying the treats as they walked outside, discussing god only knows what. The Bug crept along behind them at a distance, headlights off, and Emma knew she was being a bit ridiculous, but she felt better being safe than sorry. The boys' destination seemed to be the pier, which was quite brightly lit, forcing Emma to park further away in the shadows. While her eyes remained fixed on Henry, her mind continually wandered back to Regina.

This had gone on long enough. Emma couldn't take the animosity between them anymore. Peering discreetly at Regina from the corner of her eye, Emma felt confident that she was not the only one on the verge of cracking.

"Look, I don't want to fight with you," Emma blurted out quickly, before she could lose her nerve. Reconciliation was not one of her strong suits. "But, from now on, there can't be any secrets between us. I know we agreed to leave our past in the past, but there are some things I have a right to know."

"Yes, of course," Regina replied, with eager relief and sincere repentance.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Emma inquired, knowing it wasn't quite fair to ask after already calling a cease fire, but needing to hear the answer. "Why did you lie about Neal being in Storybrooke?"

Regina was quiet for a long moment, though it was a pensive silence, and so Emma waited patiently for the woman to speak.

"I – I suppose I was jealous," Regina finally admitted reluctantly. "I was... afraid. Afraid that if you knew he was here, you and Henry would choose him. And you would all leave me."

"How could you think that?" Emma asked, heart aching at the honesty behind the confounding reply.

"Emma, you don't even know me," Regina said morosely.

"Of course I do," Emma replied with an indignant puff.

"Hardly, dear," Regina scoffed self-deprecatingly. "There's so much more that you haven't seen, so much that you don't recall. But him... Him, you have a tangible connection to. Him, you remember."

"But I trust _you_," Emma insisted. "Can't you see that?"

Regina looked up, an expression of grateful adoration on her face. A moment of holding the earnest stare was all that Emma could stand, turning away under the guise of checking on Henry.

"Do you still have feelings him?" Regina asked diffidently, her gaze unwavering in the corner of Emma's eye.

"Neal? No," Emma replied firmly, with a bit of extra bluster to cover the way Regina's interest in the matter stirred her inside. Don't read into it, Emma chastised herself. It was just an innocent question.

"Are you certain of that?" Regina pressed, apparently sensing the false bravado, though not what it concealed.

Emma sighed. Putting on a front wasn't going to accomplish anything. "I guess you never really forget your first love, you know?" Having just declared a mandate of honesty between them, Emma figured if she expected to receive she had better be willing to give. "I can't hate him, because that would be hating half of my kid. So, I have to focus on his good qualities. For Henry."

A sharp chortle from beside her briefly made Emma worry that Regina found her sentiments foolish, though the woman's thoughtful smile was genuine.

"What's funny?" Emma asked apprehensively.

"Nothing is funny, dear," Regina replied reassuringly. "It's simply that I understand that notion quite completely. Though, you made yourself rather impossible to hate in other ways as well."

Emma smiled secretly at Regina's playful and – she dared to speculate – flirtatious tone. But something was still nagging at the back of her mind. It was none of her business, not really, yet it felt like everything was riding on this one question. She figured Regina had already opened the door, now it was Emma's turn to walk through it. Now or never.

"What about you and Robin?" Emma asked hesitantly. "What kind of _'friend'_ is he?"'

"Not the kind you're thinking, dear," Regina chuckled, correctly reading Emma's thoughts and making her blush. "He is… Like a sponsor, of sorts."

"So there's really nothing romantic there?" Emma inquired, trying – and probably failing – to hide her enthusiasm.

"Emma, you've been staying in my home for the better part of a week," Regina explained carefully. "Don't you think you would have known by now if there was?"

Emma peered downward, trying to bury her giddy gaze in her lap, as well as the sudden, foolish urge to giggle. "Good point," she said as seriously as she could, feeling utterly ridiculous for the juvenile glee bubbling inside her. Not even her teenage romance with Neal had ever left her feeling so uncharacteristically jovial.

A silence fell over them then, and while it wasn't a particularly uncomfortable one, Emma found herself desperately seeking more interaction from the woman beside her. Like a small puppy, in dire need of Regina's attentive affection.

"So," Emma mummered, tucking her hair behind her ear and grinning cheekily when she finally thought of something to say. "You really made up all of our memories? Mine and Henry's?"

"I did," Regina confirmed.

"Well," Emma teased, "I suppose that would explain why I suddenly went off women for a decade after Henry was born. Always felt like it should have been the other way around, considering it was a man that screwed me over."

Bold laughter sounded from the seat beside her, and Emma shyly joined in on the merriment, pleased by the success of her quip. She loved it when Regina laughed, and not just because she was fairly certain it was a rather rare commodity. Emma could swear the glorious sound seeped right down into her own soul, making her shine.

"I do apologize for being so presumptuous," Regina said sincerely. Emma just shrugged, smile unwavering. It wasn't like Regina was the first person to make such an assumption about her, and the woman had only been doing her best to give them their happiness.

It wasn't until the laughter had ceased completely that Emma realized they were still staring into each other's eyes. She couldn't look away, and she couldn't stop smiling. She would have felt foolish, had Regina's lips not remained pursed and curled upwards as well. It filled Emma with a nervous sort of excitement, the kind that made her choke down on gratuitous laughter again.

Emma's eyes slowly fell to Regina's mouth, as though it were a magnet for her gaze. It was in watching those succulent lips, in comparing them to the most juicy, tender fruit in her mind and imagining their sticky sweet taste, that she found herself alarmingly overwhelmed by the desire to kiss Regina Mills.

The realization caused Emma's heart to thunder against her chest. It wasn't as if she'd never entertained the idea before, but Emma was sure she had never needed a kiss like this. She craved Regina's lips like nicotine, or at least how she imagined the addiction might feel. Emma knew there was something that made it near impossible resist the urge, and she was sure Regina's lips were the closest she had ever come to understanding that need. Just a puff, just a taste.

The way Regina was looking at her still, Emma was almost sure she could get away with it. She was almost sure Regina would allow it, maybe even welcome it. She was almost sure, though she wasn't certain, and so she hesitated. But what was the worst that could happen? Well, plenty, a voice in her head replied. She pushed the worrisome thought away, intent on doing this. She had to do it, she had to know.

Taking a deep breath, Emma leaned in just a little closer – until a loud tapping startled her to a halt. Both women's eyes flicked quickly to the driver's side, where they discovered a smug looking father and son duo. Emma scowled deeply as she rolled down the car window.

"Not exactly the most inconspicuous choice of stakeout vehicle," Neal admonished teasingly, ruining whatever had remained of the moment.

Right then, Emma could absolutely swear she was going to kill him.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: My apologies again for not having this ready last week. However, it's almost twice as long as other chapters, so hopefully that makes up for it! It is also unbetaed, so sorry if there's errors or if it's shitty lol. Anyway, really really hope you'll be excited about this chapter and let me know!_

* * *

After being exposed by the subjects of their stakeout, the prying women were sent away with their tails between their legs. Well, at least Emma was. Regina simply grinned with smug amusement all the way home; not quite saying 'I told you so', though the point was heard nonetheless.

Once Regina had assured that – despite any personal grievances – Henry was quite safe with Neal, the two women were able see the humor in the events that had transpired that evening, laughing at themselves over a glass of Regina's magnificent cider. In between the chuckles and soft smiles, though, Emma's gut twisted and pulled as she stared achingly at the woman beside her. The drinks were strong, but not even the buzz of alcohol could seem to reignite the flame of courage she had felt in the car. Instead, she was left with only the cold ashes of longing, wondering how much cider or circumstance it might take before she ever felt so bold again.

It was quite late before Henry came home, thoroughly exhausted, and though Emma was incredibly anxious to hear every detail of his evening, she begrudgingly accepted his plea to tell her all about it in the morning. She sent him off to bed, resisting the urge to ask if she might tuck him in, loath to admit that he was far too old for that. Regina soon took her leave as well, departing without so much as a caress of her fingers, let alone the goodnight kiss Emma craved now more than she ever should have allowed herself to. Desires unfulfilled, she followed their lead, welcoming sleep as she crawled into her bed.

The next morning Emma toddled sleepily into the kitchen, kicking herself for the disappointed way her heart sank to find it vacant, until she discovered a note placed squarely in the middle of the counter. It was from Regina, of course, apologizing for her absence and requesting that Emma come to the mayoral office at her earliest convenience. The note concluded by stating that breakfast was waiting in the refrigerator, and Emma couldn't help her grin at the thoughtfulness. It's not as if she was incapable of making the meal herself, and admittedly it was a bit hard to get used to the idea of someone else taking care of her. It was the fact that Regina actually seemed to want to do it that made Emma's heart stutter and swell.

After breakfast, mother and son set out on a walk to Snow and David's apartment. Emma still wasn't sure how to feel about having parents, but Henry seemed to like them, and she supposed they were family, after all. She figured it was good for him to spend some time with the cheerful couple, and it gave her an excuse not to leave him alone. He had certainly outgrown needing a babysitter, and Emma was okay with short periods of time when she was nearby. But leaving him alone was still hard for her to feel comfortable with, knowing all too well the troubles and dangers that existed in the world for kids his age. Having him spend time with his grandparents was a good way of keeping an eye on him, without making him feel like he was being babied. And walking to the apartment created a perfect opportunity for Emma to pry for information.

"You ready to tell me about your night?" she asked casually.

"It was cool," Henry replied, quite purposefully vague.

"Hey, kid, listen – I'm not going to be upset if you say you had a good time with your dad," Emma said intuitively. "My issues with him are mine, not yours. Got it?" Henry's relieved nod told Emma she had hit the nail on the head, and she smiled back warmly before continuing. "So, you did have a good time then?"

"Yeah," Henry said, still a bit hesitant, but at least being honest now. "Neal is pretty cool, I like him a lot. I think he still has a thing for you, though."

Emma groaned internally, hoping Henry was wrong about this, despite knowing his perceptive nature. "And what makes you say that?"

"He kept asking about you. And the look on his face when he talks about you." Henry shrugged, then giggled a little. "I told him he looks like you do when you talk about Regina."

"Like _what_?" Emma exclaimed, completely mortified, yet again.

"You know," Henry said innocently. "Bearclaw. Remember?"

"Yes, Henry. I remember," Emma sighed, rubbing her temples as she reminded herself that her son was _not_ actively trying to sabotage her love life. He simply did not grasp the complexities that came with it all. "So," she continued after a calming breath, "what did he have to say about that?"

"He said he didn't see it coming, but that he probably should have."

Emma's heart leapt. She might not be feeling too particularly fond of Neal, but there was no question that he'd always been able to read her quite well. She'd often theorized that's where Henry got it from. And if Neal had seen something in her forgotten past to substantiate what she was feeling for Regina now, that just made her all the more hopeful.

"What about you?" Henry asked deviously, turning the tables. "How was your time _alone_ with Regina?"

Emma chuckled at her son's persistence. _That_ he had definitely gotten from her. "It was good." She smiled a bit wistfully. "Really good, actually."

"No details!" Henry exclaimed frantically, covering his ears. "Please!"

Emma laughed, hip checking him lightly. "Why do you act like I've emotionally scarred you with these stories in the past?"

"We talk about everything," Henry replied. "But we've never been in this situation before. So I wanted to make sure you didn't accidentally, you know, _over_ share."

"Are you telling me you think that I have been completely celibate since you were born?"

"What's 'celibate' mean?"

"You probably don't want to know right now," Emma shook her head amusedly. "But just trust me, even if anything _had_ happened between me and Regina last night – which it didn't – I would spare you the details. But nothing happened. We just, you know, cleared the air. Talked."

"I'm glad you guys aren't fighting anymore," Henry proclaimed earnestly. "I was kind of scared for a minute."

"Scared of what?" Emma asked, noticing the way her son winced like he wanted to retract the statement. "What is it, kid? You know you can tell me anything."

"Well, it's just..." Henry muttered. "Don't take this the wrong way, but things just haven't felt right this year. Like... I don't know, like something was missing. But when we're with Regina–"

"It doesn't feel that way anymore," Emma finished the sentence, his words making her feel as though her heart might explode right out of her chest.

Henry came to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk, staring up at his mother with a bemused expression. "How did you know?"

Emma turned back to face him, brow knitted empathetically. "I've felt it too. All of it," she replied softly. "Is this why you've been pushing for me to date Regina?"

The boy's shoulders rose and fell once again, a bit sheepishly this time. "Maybe."

"Henry," Emma began, motherly concern leaking through. "If you've been feeling upset this year, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want you to worry," Henry replied.

"It's my job to worry about you," Emma reminded him, lovingly cradling his chin in her hands.

"I worry about you, too, Mom," he insisted. "I just want you to be happy."

Wrapping her arms around him fully, Emma couldn't help but laugh at her precocious child, simultaneously disguising her watery eyes. She dreaded remembering a life without this boy, but she had to believe Regina's promise that it had been to give him his best chance.

"Nothing matters more to me than your happiness. And I promise you, I will always do everything in my power to make sure that you and I get our happy ending. No matter what. Okay?"

"Okay. But, Mom," Henry wheezed. "You're kind of suffocating me!"

Dabbing discreetly at her eyes, Emma released her hold, earning a halfhearted eye roll for the kiss she placed on top of the boy's head. "By the way," Henry began as they continued on their walk. "I wouldn't mind hanging out with Neal again sometime. You know," he smiled cheekily, "if you wanted spend more time 'not doing anything' with Regina."

"Thanks, kid," Emma laughed again as they approached the apartment. "I'll keep that in mind."

Snow greeted them enthusiastically at the door when they arrived, the joy shining so brightly from her eyes that it made Emma want to shield herself and hide from the rays. Even so, the woman was clearly holding back on her daughter's behalf, and for that Emma was grateful. Obviously her mother – so strange to use that word – was aware of her boundaries, even if it took every ounce of Snow's overbearing being to respect them. David stepped in before things got too intense, promising to drop Henry off at Regina's office in a couple of hours. Emma thanked them both, kissed Henry again, and hurriedly left.

Eagerly making her way back to the mansion to pick up her Bug, Emma tried to convince herself that her quickened pace had nothing to do with her own excitement over seeing the woman she'd spent all of one morning away from, and everything to do with simply being prompt. She was only partly successful. By the time she stepped into Regina's office, though, she could hardly be bothered to give her motives a second thought, too captivated by the stunning silhouette of this gorgeous woman in a fitted black dress. Emma felt a bit subpar, in her casual jeans, boots and block print sweater, but those thoughts were instantly melted away with Regina's warm smile. A little too warm, Emma mused, removing her red leather jacket as she felt a deep blush trying to burn its way up her chest.

"Emma," Regina continued to grin. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."

The blush crept up to Emma's neck upon realizing she'd been over zealous in her ambition to get here. "Oh, yeah," she stuttered. "Dropping Henry off with my parents went quicker than I thought." She added a shrug for good measure, turning towards an empty chair and away from Regina before her cheeks could flush.

Seeing Regina today felt like an entirely different experience than all the days before. After Emma's undeniably amorous intentions in the car, and Henry's musings of dating and family and forever now floating freely through her head, suddenly every moment with this woman, every look or word exchanged, it all felt so much bigger than it ever had. Than anything like this ever had.

Laid out across the conference table in front of her was a chemistry set that looked to Emma like something out of a cheesy science fiction movie. It was almost comical, but Emma held back her quips as Regina approached the contraption with a completely straight face.

"So, what's the plan here?" Emma asked instead.

"Once, when Henry was very small," Regina explained, "I created a potion of forgetting. One which I used on myself, to forget about your very existence, ironically enough. Theoretically, a potion using the counter ingredients should have the opposite effect. Assuming I can figure out just what those ingredients might be."

"And you need _me_ here for... what exactly?" Emma inquired, grimacing nervously when the other woman smirked.

"Taste testing, of course."

After three hours and a multitude of foul flavored concoctions, Emma certainly hoped this was all still so amusing to Regina, because it certainly wasn't for Emma or her tongue. Just as another mixture was finished and poured, a quick knock that was hardly even a courtesy interrupted them and the door was flung open. Emma was helpless to extinguish the cold burn that spread across her chest and tinged her cheeks when she laid eyes upon their visitor.

"Apologies, m'lady," Robin said, taking in surprised expressions and eyeing Emma just as curiously. "I thought I might invite you to lunch. I wasn't aware you had a prior engagement."

"It's quite alright," Regina replied, holding the potion bottle out of the man's sight and indicating Emma with her free hand. "I believe you and Ms Swan have already been introduced?"

"I've had the pleasure," Emma bit dryly, earning a slightly puzzled expression from Regina.

Robin's face contorted, ignoring Emma's sarcastic comment. "What in the name of the gods is that stench?" His gaze finally landed on the array of beakers, swirling tubes, and Bunsen burners that covered the tabletop, then snapped back to Regina. "Are you using magic? _Again_?" he asked accusingly, making the the icy tingling sensation of rage radiate all the way out to Emma's fingers and toes at the audacity of this man.

Regina rolled her eyes. "It's merely potions," she defended herself, giving up on trying to hide the bottle and holding it out in front of her like it was evidence of what she said. "Hardly more than chemistry."

"So you're not taking the drugs, you're just making them," Robin persisted sharply. "I wonder wherever that could lead."

"Enough!" Emma shouted, unable and unwilling to sit by and watch this verbal attack. Robin looked at her as if he had already forgotten she was there, seeming very nearly embarrassed by his outburst.

"I certainly hope that she's worth it," he said ominously to Regina, sparring Emma a final glance before he turned, slamming the door shut behind him.

No sooner had the walls stopped vibrating from the force than Regina had spun away from Emma, hurling the bottle in her hand across the room.

"What the hell?" Emma exclaimed as the vial shattered against the floor.

"It's hopeless," Regina lamented. "You're not just under some spell. You and Henry were _cursed. _And there are only so many ways to break a curse."

But Emma didn't care about curses or lost memories right now. There was something far more immediate pressing on her mind. Something that caused her hands to shake and her heart to twist in her chest before she even uttered the words.

"What did Robin mean by 'worth it'?" she asked, trying to act bold even as her voice trembled. Regina froze, gaping as if it hadn't occurred to her that Emma had heard the man's words, but tore her gaze away without responding. "Regina," Emma demanded more firmly, rising from her seat and rounding the table to stand in front of the other woman where she couldn't be ignored. "What did he mean when said he hopes that I'm worth it?"

Regina's breathing was heavy, still laced with the same adrenaline that had sent the tiny glass bottle crashing to the ground. She grabbed both of Emma's wrists, hands hovering between their faces as Regina eliminated their personal space with one sharp tug.

"I had a lot of time to think over the past year," Regina hissed through her teeth. "And I thought about Henry – all the time. Just as I expected I would." She paused, leaning in closer still, forcing the air from Emma's lungs. "But I also thought about you. And not in the way I expected at all."

Regina's breath on her lips made their proximity impossible to ignore, and as each sharply punctuated syllable caressed Emma's skin, suddenly she knew – she just _knew_ – that this was the moment.

She couldn't take it anymore, not another minute. Twisting her hands free, Emma pressed their bodies together. "If you want to kiss me," she dared boldly, "then _do it_."

In an instant, Regina's hands had clasped around Emma's face, gripping with a fierce intensity of need, and in the next their lips collided roughly, hungrily. Desperately seeking to become closer, grabbing and pulling at one another's clothing in fistfuls. Emma's body burned, every inch of it. A simple kiss shouldn't possibly feel this good.

When Regina slowed and began to pull away, Emma felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, even as she panted greedily. "Don't stop," she whispered against succulent red lips. "Please."

Slower this time, more gently, Regina cradled the other woman's face and pressed their mouths together. It was soft, but no less intense as Emma felt teeth nibbling on her lower lip. The kiss was hot and languid like lava flow, melting her bones and consuming everything. Thoughts of going slow were eradicated as Emma welcomed the tongue that slipped over her own with a satisfied whimper. She felt Regina's grip on her tighten just before quickly being lifted and unceremoniously plopped onto the conference table. Emma gasped at the unexpected move but never faltered, hands wondering of their own accord over a supple backside, squeezing boldly to pull Regina more firmly between her legs.

Emma's stomach was in perpetual knots, hardly able to comprehend that this woman was kissing her, touching her, sneaking her fingers hesitantly under the block print sweater. She had no idea what Regina's intentions were, how far they were going, but Emma would let the woman take her right here on the table if that's what she wanted.

"Hey, Mo– Oh, gross!"

Her son's voice snapped Emma out of her state of bliss. "Henry!" she exclaimed apologetically as the boy's hands flew to cover his eyes.

"This is why I ask if you're decent!" he huffed indignantly, scurrying frantically back out of the room without unshielding his face.

Emma groaned petulantly, allowing her head to fall forward until it rested against Regina's chest, feeling the vibrations of the woman's soft chuckle. Soothing fingers began trailing through blonde hair, making Emma hum contentedly at the pleasurable sensation and letting her frustrations fade away. Regina's fingers soon traveled under Emma's chin, gently encouraging her to look up.

"I'd like to take you out to dinner," Regina said softly, tucking imaginary strands of hair behind Emma's ear. "Just the two of us."

Emma grinned, feeling like a giddy school girl who'd just been asked to prom. "I'd like that," she nodded in agreement.

Regina smiled broadly in return, placing a delicate kiss on Emma's lips. "Then it's a date."


End file.
